


Like Ships In The Night

by lisachan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 09:31:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18049979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Keith always knew Shiro was trying to save him by marrying someone else.





	Like Ships In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story was supposed to be 500 words long. It's official: I lost the ability to flashfic.  
> Written for [The Clash of the Writing Titans #9](https://www.landedifandom.net/tag/cow-t-9/), [Week 4](https://www.landedifandom.net/cowt9-week4/), Mission 4, prompt: "cheating on your partner".

Keith always knew Shiro was trying to save him by marrying someone else.

For reasons he never fully understood, despite having known for years how Keith felt about him, Shiro always refused to acknowledge it, believing not to be worthy of it.

Keith never thought about it in such terms. He’s actually pretty sure there is not one single person in the entire universe who, after being thoroughly reviewed, would be entirely worthy of being love. Everyone’s selfish, someone’s a coward, some people are liars, some of them are jealous, envious, lazy, mischievous. Some people cheat, some others steal, some start wars, some others are killers. There are people who rule entire countries with nothing but cruelty, some others are parasites, some take advantage of people’s weaknesses to trick them.

Everyone has flaws, bigger or smaller. That’s the beauty of love, Keith always thought, that it doesn’t care about your flaws. It sees them, it knows their specific weight within your personality, it balances them out with your virtues, but ultimately love doesn’t need the absence of flaws to exist.

If someone could love Zarkon – and, actually, many could – Keith doesn’t see why Shiro would think himself not to be worthy of being loved by him.

He tried to talk about it with him, once. They were close, back then. Closer than they are now, for sure. Last day on the Earth and all that, Shiro had said to spend it with those they loved. Keith had searched for him and couldn’t find him. He had been with his mother, then, for a few hours. Then, Krolia had hugged him uncomfortably – it was an uncommon gesture coming from her, and Keith had appreciated it much more because of that – and had told him “go to sleep, child”. But he couldn’t sleep. So he had decided to sit on top of the Black Lion, Cosmo napping by his side, waiting for the dawn.

Shiro came, though late enough to make Keith almost think he wouldn’t. In the perfect stillness of the night, Keith had heard him approach and sit a few inches from him. He remembers thinking about asking to come closer, and not finding the guts to do it. He remembers going into battle, the next day, regretting it deeply.

“You came,” he said, looking at the sky not to have to look at him. He didn’t trust his emotional reactions around Shiro back then any more than he trusts them now.

“I tried not to,” Shiro answered. Keith found himself getting angry, as always when Shiro said things like that one. 

“Why?”

“Because I said you should spend the night with someone you love.”

“And I love you. I told you a thousand times.”

Shiro let out half a saddened chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t love me,” he said, “You just believe you do, because you never tried loving someone else.”

“Why should I try loving someone else when I’m already in love with you?”

Shiro sighed, turning to look at him. This time, Keith couldn’t avoid his gaze, and the pain coming from it. He remembers himself thinking, _I just want us to be together. Why can’t you give me this one simple thing?_

“I’m not right for you, kid,” Shiro said, “You know that.”

“I know nothing.”

“Well, _I_ know, then,” he sighed again. “I’m older than you. I don’t want what you want for your life. You have a mission, a calling, ideals that will take you away from here once this war is over. And it’s always been like this, Keith, you...” he turned to look at him more directly, insisting on the point, “You have always wanted _more_ than you could have here. And now you found your mother, and you have the Blades. And if you’re honest with yourself for a moment, if you don’t wanna be honest with me, you have to admit that, if we survive this, the Earth is not the place where you’ll spend the rest of your life.”

“And what about that?” Keith frowned deeply, facing him with the same stubborn obstinacy Shiro had shown in denying their relationship any way to grow in any direction he couldn’t control for the past ten years, “You could come with me, couldn’t you? You want more for your life too! You’ve always been a fighter, you’re a hero, you’re a traveler. Come with me. _Be with me_.”

Shiro had looked him for an eternal second, and then he had laughed a little, and Keith thought distinctly that life never warns you when it decides to break your heart, but it should. So you could at least prepare. Because having his heart break after hearing Shiro laugh like that, tenderly, sweetly, affectionately, was unendurable.

“Keith,” he said, “I adore you, but that’s not what I want for my life. I’m tired. I think I gave enough. What I want to do after this war is over, is settle somewhere nice. Find someone nice. Be reasonably content for what’s left of my life.”

“But that’s...” Keith had shaken his head, refusing to believe what he had just heard, “That’s horrible. That’s not happiness.”

Shiro smiled, reaching out for him. It had been days since he had last touched him, and Keith’s whole body came alive at the simple touch of his fingers on his cheek. Feelings he thought he had suppressed in preparation of the battle to come woke up, and suddenly all he wanted was to discard his clothes and lie next to Shiro for what was left of the night. He didn’t even care about doing anything more than that. Just sharing warmth would’ve sufficed.

“Happiness is too much of a strong emotion, Keith,” Shiro said. His words were almost as painful as the plain sadness in his voice. “I’m tired of feeling so strongly. I don’t _want_ to be happy, happiness takes too much of an effort. I want a calm life. I just want to be serene. That’s not a cage I could ever trap you in. It’s not what you deserve. So please, if you love yourself _and_ if you love me, forget about this and move on with your life.”

And it’s not like he hasn’t tried. He moved to the other end of the galaxy, he’s lived as a traveler for the last five years, hoping at some point the feeling would fade, that it would stop hurting, that missing him would’ve felt less heart-shattering. 

It never did. And the few times he’s seen him over the years have only made it worse. Every time they cross paths it feels like ships in the night, they just pass by one another, Shiro looking away, trying not to impose his presence, Keith looking stubbornly at him, hoping at some point he’ll look his way.

This ends tonight, Keith thinks as he walks straight towards Shiro’s house. He’s got a few glasses of liquid courage running through his veins – he needed that for what he’s about to do. In all his life he’s never showed up at someone else’s place in the middle of the night, especially knowing that someone’s not alone.

It’s been months since he last saw Shiro. Some official occasion here on Earth or something, one of the dozen celebrations they have scattered through the year in memory of the war and Voltron’s work to end it. He looked nice, and Keith wanted him, and they barely even spoke.

But he’s here, tonight, and they are gonna speak, if that’s the last thing Keith does, he’s going to force him to.

He rings the doorbell and only for a moment he stops to muse about what he will do if it’s not Shiro opening the door, but Curtis. They never spoke before – not since after the wedding. Sure, Curtis knows who he is, they fought together, but they were never close, and Keith can only thank God for that, because he had no idea what he would’ve done if Shiro had chosen to marry someone close to him instead of him. He’d have probably killed them both.

Somehow, Curtis was a safe choice, and Keith’s heart, already battered enough by the mere announcement of Shiro’s wedding, could endure it, more or less, without having to go on a killing spree. 

But he still has no idea what he’d do now. If that door opened and Curtis appeared, drunk as he is, there’s no telling what he’d be capable of doing.

He doesn’t have to wonder for much too long, though – Shiro comes opening the door, and Keith can’t help but thinking he must’ve felt him. That he must’ve come because he felt him close. That’s probably why he doesn’t even look surprised.

“I was starting to ask myself when you’d come,” he says.

Keith growls and enters the house without even asking for permission, pushing him away. “Don’t speak to me like that,” he said, “You made it inevitable.”

“I know.”

“It’s your fault it had to come to this.”

“I know.”

“Stop looking so calm!”

“And you stop raising your voice,” Shiro moves closer and closes the entrance door, plunging them both in the deep darkness of the hall. Keith can’t see the rest of the house from where he stands, the hallway takes a turn a few feet in and Shiro’s body, towering over him, makes it impossible for him to take a peek. Is the bedroom close? Is Curtis just watching from behind that corner? Does he even care?

“We need to talk,” Keith says, looking down.

“I’m here for you,” Shiro nods, “Speak freely.”

“No,” Keith shakes his head, stubbornly, “No, this isn’t gonna be one of our old talks. I won’t let you convince me you’re right and I’m wrong, or hurt me enough that I won’t care and I’ll just let it go. I won’t let it go, this time.” He finally looks up, locking eyes with him. Shiro’s eyes are dark, mysterious and impenetrable. “I love you,” he says.

“I know,” Shiro answers, and Keith raises his hand and slaps him across his face.

“Asshole.”

Shiro brings a hand to his own face and rubs his burning cheek. “I know,” he nods again.

“Stop saying that!” Keith grabs him by his shoulders and shakes him hard, as he would shake a kid who refuses to understand what he’s talking about, “You have no idea-- You have no idea what my life has been. What I’ve felt all along. Don’t say you know, you don’t know!”

“I don’t?” Shiro says, lifting his hands to grab both of Keith’s. He doesn’t even raise his voice, but his tone changes depth, and that’s all Keith needs to shut his mouth right away. He feels he touched a soft spot, there, and he can sense a new wave of strength coming from Shiro, as though rage had finally bloomed in him too.

He realizes, all of a sudden, that he’s spent almost the entirety of his life trying to push Shiro into having an emotional reaction that could be strong enough to compare to his own.

Seems like he finally managed.

“You think I don’t, Keith?” Shiro says darkly, pushing him towards the wall, crashing him into it with his whole broad body, “And what do you think the last fifteen years have been for me, a walk in the park?”

“I don’t know,” Keith answers in a half-cut breath, looking up at him.

“Ah, now you’re the one who doesn’t know,” Shiro squeezes his wrists and leans in into him, speaking barely an inch from his lips, “You think this has been easy for me? That I didn’t struggle every single day of my life not to give in? To keep pushing you away?”

“I don’t even understand why you did it!”

“That’s because you don’t _think_ , Keith, and one of us had to, and it had to be me, because I was older-- I _am_ older, and I have a responsibility over you!”

“No one asked you to take that upon yourself!”

“You did, Keith!” Shiro growls, pulling him closer, shaking him to try and break him out of his spell, but it’s impossible when all Keith can feel is that they’re closer than they’ve ever been, and Shiro feels so warm through his clothes, “With every word you said since you were a child, you asked that I took care of you. You never said it out loud, but believe me, I got it loud and clear.”

“You chose to get only what you wanted,” Keith insists, shaking his head, “I wanted more from you. I didn’t just want you to take care of me, I wanted you to be with me.”

“Always demanding.”

“That’s what love does, Shiro, accept it!” Keith shakes free from his hold and grabs his head with both his hands, forcing him to keep looking at him before Shiro can look away, “It gives everything and demands for all in return! I could accept everything of you, everything-- If what you truly wanted was to live here for the rest of your days, doing nothing dawn ‘till dusk, I would’ve accepted it! Because I loved you!”

“I didn’t want you to accept things that would’ve made your life worse than it was! Why can’t you understand that?!”

“Because I don’t _give a shit_ about it!” he almost screams, and before he himself can scream any louder he closes the distance between them and presses his lips against Shiro’s, kissing him hard, to silence him too.

Shiro whimpers and moves back, breaking the kiss only seconds after it started. Keith decides not to freak out. He waits. Keeps looking straight into Shiro’s eyes. Loses himself in their darkness.

And then exhales a relived sigh when, instead of pushing him away, Shiro holds him close, slams the door open and pushes him out, following him straight after. The hallway outside the door is lit with an ugly white neon light, but it’s okay – Keith wants to see it, he wants to see this clearly. He gets slammed into the wall once more, then kissed like Shiro could only breathe from his lips. He moans and holds onto him, pressing himself against him hoping to let even just a trace of the intensity of his desire pass through his skin and deposit underneath Shiro’s, like radioactive waste.

He wants to poison him. He wants to poison him with the depth of his wanting, he wants to make him addicted to him like he’d be addicted to a drug. He wants him to suffer when he can’t have it, so that for the rest of their life he will _have_ to come back for more.

“That’s what I always wanted from you,” he mutters drunkenly against his lips while Shiro, as though possessed by a demon, strips his t-shirt off him, leaving him bare-chested in the middle of the hallway. “Yes,” he moans while Shiro leans in and draws wet lines across his chest with the tip of his tongue.

It’s late at night, but someone could pass by any second. And Shiro’s husband is sleeping just on the other side of this door. And yet Keith doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how much seeing a scene like this happening practically in public would upset a stranger, and he doesn’t care how much it’d hurt Curtis. This is what he wants. It’s what he always wanted. And he has to have it, now.

“This will hurt you,” Shiro whispers, getting on his knees in front of him.

“I highly doubt it,” Keith swallows as he pops the button of his pants open.

Shiro can’t help but curl his lips into a surrendering, sad smile. “Not _this_ ,” he says, holding Keith’s erection between his fingers, stroking him a few times as he moistens his lips, “This. Us. You might not believe me, but we’re not meant to be.”

“Yeah, you’ve been saying it for fifteen years and I had to trust you on that. Now, I wanna see for myself.”

That’s something thorougly immature to say, but it doesn’t matter. Keith’s twenty-six, now, but Shiro touching him makes him feel fifteen again. He can allow himself acting like a child, as long as they’re still doing it.

He moans louder and throws his head back, hard enough he almost hits his nape against the wall, when Shiro wraps his lips around his shaft, sucking gently. There’s nothing else to say, nothing else to do but go with the flow, and with the pleasure that pools in his underbelly and rises like the tide, threatening to spill and flood his whole body. He moves his hips slowly, thrusting inside Shiro’s mouth, and when he’s on the verge of coming Shiro withdraws, and Keith shakes violently, almost falling on his ass on the ground.

“No,” he whimpers weakly, “Don’t stop.”

“Shut up, Keith,” Shiro simply says, getting back up on his feet. He leans in and kisses Keith voraciously, shutting him up before he can add anything else, and then he makes him turn around. Hands on the wall, Keith half-turns towards him to watch him from above his shoulder. Shiro keeps his eyes focused on him and he moves as though he had to handle some sort of precious cargo. The way he regards him as something fragile to protect is touching, but Keith would much rather him to handle him as though he wanted to break him.

Because that’s what he wants. To be broken. To be torn apart. He wants a trace of Shiro inside himself forever, much better if it’s bloody. Blood creates stains it’s impossible to wash away.

He bites at his bottom lip as he feels him penetrate him. He doesn’t want to make too much noise – his pleasure is private, it’s only for himself and Shiro to hear, and the same goes for his pain. Alcohol helps, but it can’t numb everything down, and that’s perfect as it is. He wants to feel this. Pain and pleasure and sadness and happiness. All of it. Everything that Shiro is, everything he means to him. He wants it all, today as five years ago, tomorrow as fifteen years ago. 

They move together and where they are doesn’t matter, and what surrounds them doesn’t matter, neither in terms of people nor situations. It barely even matters who they are, because even if they were different people, with different histories, and even if they went by different names, the primal force tying them together would still be the only thing that matters.

And when he comes, Keith makes sure Shiro knows that by tightening his muscles around him hard enough to keep him trapped inside his body, milking his orgasm out of him, taking in every drop of it. It doesn’t matter that, in but a few minutes, once Shiro withdraws, it will leak out of him. If only a single drop of it can be absorbed inside his body and stay with him forever, Keith will be happy.

Keith expects Shiro to part from him right away, but Shiro remains inside him, instead. He gets even closer, actually, when he stops moving. He rests his face against Keith’s neck, pressing his lips against the curve of his shoulder. “This is what I feared,” he says in a voice so soft and distant Keith would’ve risked not hearing it if every particle of his body hadn’t been built to receive any possible kind of signal coming from Shiro.

“What?” he asks, trying to look back at him, even though they’re too close for it.

Shiro smiles a little – Keith feels the movement of his lips against his skin. “Now that I’ve had you, how am I supposed to do without you?”

Keith’s whole body’s on fire. He reaches back, placing a hand on the small of Shiro’s back, keeping him close – keeping him _inside_. “You’re not supposed to,” he says.

Shiro takes a few seconds before answering, but in the end he does. “I’m not going to leave my husband, Keith,” he says, as gently as a sentence like that can be pronounced, “You’ll leave, if not tomorrow in a week, and that’s okay, but I can’t be by myself, constantly waiting for you to come back. That’s not how I want to live the rest of my life. So, I understand that you have a mission. That you have to lead the Blades of Marmora. That you have good to bring to the universe and that you have to go into the universe to do that. But I can’t leave my husband, and I won’t.”

Keith holds his breath and keeps his eyes closed for a second. With his forehead pressed against the wall he think that, among the many things that love is, there’s compromise too. Accepting all of someone else also means having to give in to something, even if you don’t like it, for the sake of something else.

“You’re not supposed to,” he says then, and it costs him.

But Shiro smiles again and leaves a small kiss at the base of his neck, meaning he understood and he’s grateful. And Keith knows he paid a price for that, but he was willing to pay it, and it was worth it.


End file.
